Spilled Drinks
by karebear
Summary: Shepard's made it back from the other side of the Omega 4 relay, only to wind up alone and adrift on the Citadel. Post-Mass Effect 2 oneshot.


Title: Spilled Drinks  
Author: karebear  
Rating: T  
Characters: Shepard (female), Jacob mentioned a lot, a little bit of Anderson, and reference to a Kaidan romance  
Standard Disclaimer (Mass Effect): Damn it, Bioware, you've done it again! Their world, their toys, they own it all. I just play.  
Summary: Shepard's made it back from the other side of the Omega 4 relay, only to wind up alone and adrift on the Citadel. Post-Mass Effect 2 oneshot.

* * *

"Shepard."

She turns, wincing slightly as her movement sends a spike of pain pulsing through her head. The neon lights overhead cut sharper then a laser. Her vision is hazy and blurred, but she's thinking clear enough to drop her hand to the pistol strapped comfortably at her hip.

And she's certain she can hear Anderson's rough laughter as he slides into the empty barstool next to her. She sloshes nearly half the beer out of the glass, choking out an incoherent protest.

"Didn't quite catch that," the old man says softly. She glares at him, fingers still wrapped around her gun. Figures he'd find her. Thinking she needs a babysitter. _She's_ the reason he's the big man around here anyway. Anderson raises an eyebrow, and gently removes the alcohol from her posession. "Come on, Shepard. We both know you aren't going to shoot me."

" 'm saving that seat," she repeats, her voice slurred even to her own ears as the pounding bassline of what passes for music here pulses directly into her brain, vibrating in time with the beat of her heart.

"Saving it for who?"

Her fingers tingle with the memory of his touch, the firm grip of a soldier squeezing tight in a handshake, all gruff professionalism. At first. And then, that hard exterior melted away, just in flashes, here and there, but it was enough. She can see his smile: a wide grin that showed his perfect white teeth, and a laugh that was rarely heard, but always genuine. Honesty: "I'm good, Shepard!" But only when he really was.

Fingers flying fast through the elaborate gestures and secret codes that only happened in childhood clubhouses or the military. But she returned them, and let him catch her up in a hug, his breath puffing out next to her ear, warm against her skin as he held her.

The way he caught her when she fell; always. The first person to hand her a gun and a place to point it when she woke up with nothing but new scars and old memories.

And he'd sat with her in the haunting quiet on the empty Normandy as Joker pulled them through the relay toward the Collector base where vengeance and duty waited, an irresistible call.

She'd played cards with the guys in Engineering, talked with almost _everyone_ on the ship, about everything; whatever came to mind. Except with him. She didn't talk to Jacob Taylor, except for status updates and quick jokes. He had a job, he did it well; she could _feel_ the passion spilling out from him when he talked about doing everything he could to help people. He'd joined Cerberus because he was sick being tangled up in Alliance red tape, strangled by the rules of a government afraid to get its hands dirty when people went missing. She understands the feeling. She will _never_ trust Cerberus, but she trusted him. Because when she closes her eyes she can still see blood and dust swirled up in the aftermath of a slaver attack she'd barely survived. The first of far too many times she'd escaped death when she shouldn't have. Because when Miranda fired questions at her about it, Jacob told the other woman to shove it.

And because when Kaidan Alenko walked away, looking for someone she _isn't_ any more, _Jacob_ was there, with quiet strength and no expectations. He never asked for anything, and neither did she. Nothing except for a standing bar tab.

_"If we live, we'll get loud, spill some drinks on the Citadel."_

She stares at the puddle of spilled beer pooled on the bar in front of her and shakes her head. "No one," she admits.


End file.
